


Worth The Yearning

by Zigzagwanderer



Series: The Very Thought Of You [3]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1930s, Angst, Armitage Hux is British Aristocracy, Boys Kissing, Country House AU, Developing Relationship, First Times, Hux's nickname is Tigger, Kylo Ren is His Servant, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Secret Relationship, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-21
Updated: 2019-11-21
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:53:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21514846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zigzagwanderer/pseuds/Zigzagwanderer
Summary: A kind of a quick little prequel to A Flame in Your Heart etc. Hux and his servant Ren have begun to develop feelings for one another.Thanks to anyone who reads my stuff. And kudos and comments are always so great to get! Let me know if you are enjoying this series and would like more!!
Relationships: Armitage Hux/Kylo Ren
Series: The Very Thought Of You [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1623457
Comments: 11
Kudos: 39





	Worth The Yearning

_“I'm sure you’d hate to hear  
That I adore you, dear…_

Slowly, Hux teased out the melody. His dinner jacket was discarded somewhere, his bow-tie half undone. 

As a servant, Ren’s duty lay in discreetly advising his lordship to straighten up his silk.  
As a man, Ren’s wanting would have him loosen it completely, and kiss the cologne from the hollows of Hux’s throat.

_“I'm wasting precious time_  
_thinking such a thing could be;_  
_That you could ever care for me_ …” 

Hux sang the words in a voice ambered by whiskey, and as intimate as the parlour lamplight. 

Ren, standing stiffly in an unobtrusive alcove, his body pulsing with resentment and fatigue and desire, was trying very hard not to hear him, beneath the braying of the brightest and best. 

He stared forward, waiting to be called upon to light a cigarette, or fetch a decanter from _right there_ on the sideboard, and sincerely wished that all of Hux’s friends could go to hell. 

_”Just the same_  
_I'm not to blame_ ,  
_For you, Ky, would be,_  
_so easy to love…”_

Hux had slipped Ren’s name in on a sigh, as if it was simply a breath between one line and another.

Ren unclenched his white-gloved fists, and broke his own rules, and glanced over at the piano. 

Hux’s dark green eyes were looking straight at him.

_“And it seems such a shame_  
_That you can't see_  
_A future with me,_  
_'Cause you'd be_  
_so easy to love_.” 

The tallest of the Viscount’s daughters slithered up from the settee and coiled her way around Hux’s shoulders. 

“Honestly, Tigger, for God’s sake play something cheerful.”

Hux blinked at her as the tender notes faded away.

She rattled the peacock-black pearls that looped all the way down her spine. “I’m positively _bereaved_ about Freddy selling the ski lodge.” 

Hux steadied her, then moved her cocktail from where she’d slopped it down on the evening newspaper. He contemplated the headlines. 

They were full of Europe. Full of foreboding. 

“Times are hard, Phasma, old thing,” Hux said, gently, and Ren saw, through the perfume and cigar smoke, that his smile was a sad and mocking one.

But he improvised some American ragtime for her anyway, and didn’t look at Ren again.

Eventually, the party died. 

Sleek and silvery, chauffeur-driven sharks skirted by the Hall, picking off the stragglers.

Ren drank some milk and delayed tidying up until Hux was no longer anywhere downstairs. 

He took off his footman’s jacket. 

The French windows were wide open to the garden. Beyond the wall, a fox quarrelled in the woods. 

Ren emptied Hux’s ashtray, and picked up Hux’s glass, aware that he was stupidly touching anything Hux’s mouth had lingered on.

_“You'd be so easy to love_  
_So easy to idolize_  
_All others above…_ ” 

The words trickled in, with the night. Ren’s heart sank and soared at the same time.

Hux threw away his cigarette and wandered in from the moon-rimed patio.

“Kylo? Is that you?”

“Yes, sir.” Ren bowed awkwardly and stepped back, bumping into the ottoman. “I thought…I mean…It’s late.” 

Hux looked tired. 

“Yes. I was surprised to see you. Earlier on.”

He walked around the corner of the chaise. His throat was bare now, and his sleeves rolled up.

“Leave all that a minute, can’t you?” 

Ren screwed his polishing cloths up into a tight bouquet, then let them fall.

“How is your Mother? Do you need to visit the asylum again, in a day or two?”

Ren shrugged. “No. She just twisted an ankle. Thank you, sir.”

“Still...” Hux frowned. His hair was a wave of soft cinnamon across his forehead. “I could motor you down there, if you’d like. Perhaps some companionship might make it less of an ordeal for you.” He was standing directly in front of Ren, now. “We could take some provisions…”

“No.” It was too much. Too much kindness. Too much closeness. “Thank you, sir, but no.”

Ren was angry. And afraid. And he wanted Hux so much that it seemed impossible not to lean forward and kiss him.

Hux’s lips were dry, and his jaw lightly sanded with stubble.

“Well, now.” Hux arched up against Ren’s chest. “Lord, I’ve missed you, Kylo.”

Ren scrabbled to untuck Hux’s shirttails, so that if nothing else, he could press his fingertips into Hux’s waist.

“That song…you shouldn’t do things like that…If people find out about… _this_ …”

“I know.” Hux grumbled between Ren’s teeth and tongue. “I’m sorry, my darling. But when I saw you there, I couldn’t help myself.” He gnawed back at Ren, in sweet retribution. “A week, Ky. You left me for a _whole week_.”

Hux was regularly away for longer, but Ren said nothing on that; Hux was pulling Ren down onto the cushions, twisting to be on top. 

Ren felt leaden besides Hux’s athleticism.

Hux’s arms were elegantly strong from rowing, his legs firm around Ren’s hips, from a summer’s worth of county tennis with a harem of local debutantes. 

“And haven’t you got enough to do without attending to Mr Pryde’s job as well?” He roamed his way across Ren’s nipples, and Ren shivered. “Where the devil is he? Taking advantage, I assume, since _Daddy’s gone a-huntin’_?”

The head butler had been obviously drunk at luncheon, by all accounts, so Ren was not compelled to compromise one loyalty for another. This time. 

“His lordship isn’t here?” 

Hux began fumbling with Ren’s belt and braces, then at his underwear too. 

“Father had a sudden urge to shoot at some hapless rhino, before things get worse and we all have to start shooting at one another.”

Ren felt himself exposed, then engulfed. 

Hux gobbled greedily at his cock, licking the head and holding the length of it steady with one hand so that he could take more in. 

They were both lacking in technique, but it was enough to stop Ren glancing guiltily towards the many open doors.

“Please.” He found his fingers curling hesitantly around Hux’s ear. “Suck harder.” 

He was excruciatingly engorged. It was embarrassing and wonderful.

Hux obliged, taking his own relief from the heel of his other hand.

“Bloody hell, Ky.” Hux paused. “Say you’ll come away with me somewhere, some cosy little cottage somewhere, where you can get this glorious thing inside me properly…”

Ren seemed to have forgotten how to nod. 

Then the house creaked. 

Ren rose up onto one elbow. 

“Hux.” 

Panic surged through the joy. 

“We can’t be seen like this…”

He couldn’t get used to any of it; tentative regard had become tentative friendship, which had most recently become a yearning so fundamental that Ren felt less than half alive when he was not in Hux’s presence. 

“Please.” He shook Hux by the shoulder. “ _Sir_.”

Hux sat up straight. Licked his bruised lips. “Don’t call me that.”

They faced each other. 

It was all such a mess. Ren had no inkling of how such a situation could possibly work between them. 

“I’m paid to call you that…most of the time.” Ren's whisper was sullen, but it was so.

“Yes.” Hux took his hand away. “Yes. You’re right. You are.”

Ren readied himself for Hux to come to his senses. 

If he was lucky, he might be given enough notice so that he could leave for some other employment without too much shame following him down the interminable, tree-lined driveway.

“I hate it.” Hux leaned over Ren again. He touched Ren’s face. “It is too hard on you.” He stroked Ren’s jaw and the fullness of his bottom lip. “I don’t think of that, sometimes, and I’m sorry. I’m a selfish beast and perhaps I should never have...told you how much I admire you…” He took Ren’s hand in his. “What can I truly offer you, Kylo, except the risk of disgrace?”

Ren kissed him then. Deeply and very slowly. 

It was heaven. 

For once, it was Hux who seemed overwhelmed.

“Please. It’s alright, Armitage.” 

Ren was good with measurements. Bushels and pints and furlongs and leagues. He had already weighed the pleasure of having some of Hux against the pain of having nothing of him at all.

“Just please always be with me, when you can. I don’t need you to give me anything else.” 

They kissed again.

“I can bear the rest if only you give me that.”

They got Hux out too, then, and between them managed to strike up a rough, sliding sort of contact.

“Wish I’d paid more attention at school,” Hux murmured. “Some of the chaps were always at it there. But it’s almost as if I was waiting for you, so we could learn all of this together.”

They were both watching. Panting. The wet of it; both of their pricks like iron, both flushed and so disgustingly pretty to see like this, slipping and pushing at each other. 

Ren plucked a handkerchief out from a pocket and shielded them with it, wise from the aftermath of their first few encounters.

“Ky, my angel. My sweetheart.” Hux was trembling. “I’m going to finish.”

There was a rhythm to it now. 

“I can’t not…”

“Please...”

“…you’re so lovely.”

“Armitage…”

“I need you.”

“Yes.”

“I love you.”

For that part of the song, Ren had no voice left with which to respond. 

They used the polishing cloths on themselves.

Their kisses lingered; they hurt.

“You have to go.” Ren shooed him away. " _Tigger_."

Hux pinched him. “Can I see you later?”

“I’m helping out at the stables.” 

Hux looked at the carpet. “After that?”

“You have a dinner engagement. With a girl your Father wants you to marry.”

“Oh. Yes." Hux said. "Damn it all to Hades.”

It was almost light.

Soon there would be tradesmen, yawning through their deliveries. 

Mr Pryde, seeking aspirin. 

A curiosity of housemaids.

“You know, I picked the wrong tune to serenade you with, Ky.” Hux went over to the piano. There was cigarette ash spilt on the lid. He drew their initials together in the greyish dust and then wiped the whole lot away. His face was pale, but resolute. 

“It isn’t going to be easy to love you at all.”


End file.
